Four of Them

Today, me and me sister were having one of our ego-boosting "You're funnier", "No, you're funnier" bullshitting meats when I, being the brilliant rascal I am, outlined the two different kinds of funny, to maybe move the whole thing along. It goes as such: charismatic funny, the kind of sociable humor that the whole room will laugh at, and the purest form of isolation comedy, the stuff so funny only two people in the room will get it, and only one of them will gather enough courage to laugh. Discomfort humor, you'd call it.

Judd Apatow, for all intents and purposes, is of the charismatic variety. While, in retrospect, his humor isn't any less offensive than your average Adult Swim original programming, it's mainlined, the so-stupid/sweet-it's-funny kind of manchild heroism even the stoniest cynic and hardened critic can giggle at.

Todd Solondz, meanwhile, runs on fuel made of crew cuts and dead rainbows. His movies are funny, but only if you want to be a horrible person for the five seconds it takes for you to chuckle. You fidget at his misery porn and nod in appreciation of the witty satire within it. If The 40-Year-Old Virgin is cinematic potato chips, Welcome to the Dollhouse is deep-fried dolphin.

This isn't, of course, limited to the godfrosaken realms of film. The AV Club had an article awhile ago, Discomfort Comedy We Can and Can't Take, that has a plethora of television nasties you love, but can't sit through. So, yes, I'm bogarting their idea, but I'm citing it, so shut up.

What comedies do you find fidget-uncomfortable?

Oh, by the way, Sugary Cynic, in a lapst of judgement, allowed me the opportunity to win her banner quote contest (which I totally fucking did), for which the prize is a lovely Paint drawing from the very same Sugary Cynic, so I chose Dr. Frank N Furter, Mr. Pink, and Willie Garson doing battle with Big Man Japan. The result:

Let's all give her a hand. For doing her best in a bad situation.

Gnight.